


It's In Your Eyes

by agoodtuckering



Series: The Hour Stories [2]
Category: The Hour (TV)
Genre: Angst, Confessing Feelings, F/M, Heartache, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:54:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21837817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agoodtuckering/pseuds/agoodtuckering
Summary: Everything has gone wrong. At the hospital, waiting on news of Freddie's condition, Lix falls apart. But Randall is there to catch her.
Relationships: Randall Brown/Lix Storm
Series: The Hour Stories [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1598038
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15





	It's In Your Eyes

It was a glance here and fleeting look there. Sometimes there was a tender touch. One of them would always pull away first, though. As if they’d been struck by fire, even though they had lit the match themselves. It couldn’t go on.

_But it did._

Everyone noticed, but no one said anything. 

It was the way Lix and Randall lived their lives. Somewhere in the present, yet always looking behind them at the past. Fleeting glances, a face that suddenly looked twenty years younger. Or was that simply a memory that was recalled in the moment? Neither of them understood it, but there was a pull towards the other. 

The past, simply put, would not let them be. It would not let them rest. It came to a head _that day,_ that one, terrible, incredible, awful day. Exhausted from the day’s events, they sat side by side in the waiting room at the hospital. Bel was restless. Everyone could hardly contain themselves. In the midst of the biggest story ever broken on _The Hour,_ they had nearly lost one of the most important members of their team, _dear Freddie._ But he would pull through, the doctors had assured them.

No one made a single comment about the way Lix leant into Randall, as if to seek his strength and comfort and _composure._ She needed it that night. She needed him, just as much, she rather thought, as he needed her. They also had a tragedy of their own to come to terms with as well. It was almost too much to keep inside. The hole in her chest, and in his, felt eternal and yet empty at the same time.

When it was suddenly too much, Lix rose from her seat and strode off. Randall was left wide-eyed and curious, watching along as she left in such a hurry.

Hector’s eyes fell to the man across from him, his eyes lingering for a moment on Randall’s fidgeting fingers. He knew his ticks, by now. He understood them. He was sat there, his wife’s hand in his own, clasped tightly for support. One look from her and he suddenly felt brave enough to speak. “Mr. Brown,” he said quietly, politely. “You should go after her. Make sure Miss Storm is alright.”

Much to everyone’s surprise, he took that advice. He went wandering after her, albeit nervously. He fiddled with his coat in his arms, folded neatly and resting over an arm. He found her at a water fountain, her hands resting on the edge as if to keep her upright. 

She didn’t see him, though. She never noticed him. 

He watched on as she slipped into the ladies’ room and his brows furrowed at the tell-tale sounds he heard beyond the door. She was ill. There wasn’t anything in her stomach to begin with, and yet he heard her retching up all the coffee and, more than likely, alcohol from earlier in the day. Not to say that she was drunk, mind. Far, _far_ from it. But if one barely ingests any food and they’re upset, well, it’s hard to keep it all down. 

Without any hesitation now, he slipped into the ladies’ loo and found his way over to the stall she was crouched down in front of. It was _very much_ unlike her, but then again, this entire day had turned them all upside down, from their feet suddenly to their heads. 

Kneeling for a moment, he began to rub her back. Delicate, gentle little strokes. He tried so hard not to frighten her, but it never helped. Startled, she jumped. 

“Randall,” she sighed in relief, once she realized who was behind her. “What are you doing in here?”

He looked at her with surprise, as if it all should have been obvious. Clearing his throat softly, he offered, “You didn’t look quite right when you ran off. Did you expect me to just let you go? I was worried, Lix.” 

A sob caught into her throat and she turned away from him, flushing the toilet and rising to her feet on wobbly, trembling knees. He released her, rising as well and watching as she washed herself at the sink. She rinsed her mouth and washed her hands, splashing cool water over her face and trying, yet failing, to relax herself. 

He stood there like a white knight, watching over her and not wanting, for any reason, to leave. 

Chuckling, the sound coming out rather hoarse, she said, “You’re in the ladies’ room. What are you still doing standing there? You can go, Randall. I’m perfectly fine.” 

He made a sound in his throat, something soft and thoughtful, before coming over and gently covering a damp hand with his own. She reached for a paper towel, pulling her fingers away from his. “Today has been terribly stressful,” she said, which was an understatement, to be fair, and did everything she could not to meet his gaze. 

“If you’re trying… If you think this is some way of repaying me for earlier,” she tried to say. “You don’t need to worry about me, Randall. I’m _strong._ I can handle this.”

Wordlessly, he drew her into his arms. She said nothing, perhaps out of surprise, and went along without qualm. He held her for a moment longer before daring to speak. His voice was hoarse, eyes closing as he held her close to his chest. “You _are_ strong,” he told her. “But even so, at times, the strong need someone to lean on. This isn’t about earlier, not remotely. I’m sorry for what took place in my office. I’m ashamed. But I’m thankful.”

She drew away, just slightly, so she could look up into his face. “Thankful for what?” 

She watched him work his jaw for a moment, as if he was terrified of his next words, or perhaps trying to find the _right ones_ to say. He spoke softly, “I’m thankful that you didn’t leave me. You stayed. Throughout all of it, you stayed. And right here, right now, I’m staying too. I’m not leaving you, Lix.” 

Her eyebrows knitted for a moment and she thought she felt his heart pick up speed beneath her palm. It was ridiculous, however, to _think_ of. The man dressed in so many layers of clothing. 

“In the literal sense?” she asked. “Right now, you mean?” 

His reply caught her off-guard. “In every sense of the phrase. I’m not leaving.”

He wasn’t leaving her side now, not here in this hospital, and never again in their lives. Her breath caught in her throat at the realization and she flattened her palm out on his suit jacket, fingers spreading out evenly so as to not aggravate his compulsive disorder. He would never say, but it _touched_ him deeply. 

Finally, she asked, “Why? You came here to find… to find… our daughter. It’s over now. It’s finished. I thought you’d leave, eventually. You have the closure you were looking for.”

He did the unthinkable then. He closed the distance between them and let his lips press to her forehead. She thought perhaps, for a moment, that she hadn’t felt such tenderness since he’d been in her life last, when they were younger. 

“I didn’t come back for a single reason,” he confessed softly. “Life is rarely ever so simple. Sofia wasn’t the only thing bringing me back to London. I’m old, and tired, and I cannot for the life of me stay away for any longer.”

She heard the unsaid words. _I cannot go another day, another moment, another year without you._ They were there on his face, in his eyes, written across his expression, and she was breathless for a moment. 

“Then stay,” she simply said. _And he listened._

**Author's Note:**

> I just have a lot of feelings for these two. Everything always hurts when I think of them. I needed to write this.


End file.
